Have a Glad Heart and a Happy New Year!

"A glad heart makes a happy face;" Proverbs 15:13

I wish for you great health, hope, humor, and happiness in the new year. I have much to be thankful for and much to look forward to in 2013.

God Bless!

xoxo

Lisa

May God Bless You with an Angel

Whoo hoo! Please check out this link to my debut book about guardian angels!

http://harvesthousepublishers.com/book/may-god-bless-you-with-an-angel-2013/

"Isn't there anyone out there who can tell me what Christmas is all about?"

Charlie Brown: [shouting in desperation] "Isn't there anyone out there who can tell me what Christmas is all about?"

Linus Van Pelt: "Sure, Charlie Brown, I can tell you. Lights, please."

[a spotlight shines on Linus]

Linus Van Pelt: "And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the fields, keeping watch over their flocks by night. And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the lord shone round about them, and they were afraid. And the angel said unto them, Fear not, for behold, I bring unto you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you this day is born in the City of Bethlehem, a Savior, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; you shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger. And suddenly there was with the angel, a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God, and saying, 'Glory to God in the highest, and on Earth peace, good will toward men'. That's what Christmas is all about, Charlie brown.

Lisa M. Bakos: Merry Christmas to my dear friends and family! I am blessed!

Happy Thanksgiving!

"Give thanks to the Lord , for he is good! His faithful love endures forever." (Psalms 107:1 NLT)

What I'm most thankful for...

Guten tag, Bonjour, Good day!

I'm writing this post on the eve of our last day in Paris. Our vacation to Germany and France has been amazing and I've seen everything from the castle of a German king to the palace of a French one, with numerous monuments, museums, and famous landmarks in between.

In Germany, I visited the Nazi concentration camp in Dachau, where I cried in sadness for the victims of such a horrific period in our world's history. I will never be able to understand fully what each soul had to go through in order to survive, nor will I ever be able to forget those who perished in the process.

I also visited the Cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris as it approaches its 850th anniversary in the coming year. I was in awe of those who built this church from the ground up and convinced that but for the grace of God something so beautiful could be built by human hands so long ago yet still exist today.

My take away from this trip is two-fold: 1). I realize how historically young America is in relation to the rest of the world and that I still have so much more to see, and 2). How tenacious humans are in their quest to survive, succeed, hope, create, and thrive.

For me, everything I experienced on this trip was made better by the fact that I had such a difficult and challenging past year. And I know I've said this before, but I can't stress this enough now. I feel blessed that God found me worthy to face such an unthinkable disease such as cancer. He gave me the gift of discovering in myself a deeper faith and inner strength I never realized I had until now. He also gave me new eyes through which to discover and appreciate a new world all around me.

I'm excited to share the details of this trip with my children (whom I miss dearly) and hope to pass on to them a desire to travel or study abroad one day as well. While I wished I'd been to Europe earlier in my life, I can't say I would have necessarily appreciated it as much as I do now.

With that, I give thanks to my husband for planning this trip and taking me, and to God for teaching me what life is really all about.

Enjoy the pictures!

XO

Lisa

One for My Bucket List

I'm 48 years old, I've battled and (hopefully) beat cancer...and I've never been to Europe. Seems strange to mash those three facts together in one sentence, but they really are all inter-related.

With my fancy new haircut, suitcase full of boots, sweaters, and hats, Steve is taking me along on his business trip to Munich, followed by a romantic vacation to Paris.

In the throws of chemo and recovering from various surgeries, I never could have imagined a trip like this would ever be possible...but here I am, about to board my Business Class seats - a splurge for us! Yippee!

Admittedly, I'm a little anxious about the long flight, as well as being so far from my kids for so long, but I believe God wouldn't see me through cancer only to land my plane in the Atlantic...tee hee.

I am blessed! Pictures to follow! Bon Jour, Bon Voyage, and LIFE GOES ON!

Significant [ sig-nif-i-kuhnt] adjective

1. important; of consequence.
2. of or pertaining to observations that are unlikely to occur by chance and that therefore indicate a systematic cause.

"God often sends us into the hopeless place because it's in the hopeless place that we can see the hope of God. The interrupted life is the significant life." ~ Priscilla Shirer

It's a little strange to emerge from such a tumultuous year and have life seem to drift slowly back to normal...part of me feels like I should get to wear some sort of crown, badge or medal everyday, indicating to everyone I meet just how much I've gone through, and how I survived it. But it seems the "I'm Through With Cancer Store" is fresh out of tiaras.

Instead, I'm trying to live a significant life, have gratitude for God every day, and not take anything or anyone for granted. I'm walking now every day (much to my dogs' delight) working on getting healthy, feeling strong, and enjoying even the simple things such as finally being able to use the blow dryer on my 3/4 inch of hair today - now growing in straight and similarly colored to what I had before. :)

One year ago today, I found out I had cancer. That interruption caused the most significant and life changing events to occur for me, from losing my breasts to gaining a deeper faith in God...and, truth be told, I wouldn't trade it for the world.

Live significantly...I intend to!

Breast Cancer Awareness Month

Aw yes, it's that time of year again. October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Though for me, I feel like it's been a Breast Cancer Awareness Year.

As the one year anniversary of my diagnosis approaches, I am humbled as I recall the events that have occurred in my life over the last 12 months. Had someone told me what I'd go through in detail and how I would feel when it was all over (though it will never be over), I never could have imagined it let alone thought I could survive it.

I haven't written on this blog in awhile because, well, life has been happening. As I concentrated on healing from my last surgery, I ended up getting Lymphedema, for which I now get physical therapy. I pulled my back, for which I now need physical therapy. I made a college trip with my son. I have nursed and comforted that same son back to health as he currently battles a stubborn kidney stone. And I got my first haircut...yes, I said haircut. The woman cutting my hair (and by hair, I mean ONE hair) was kind enough to humor me by pretending to cut more than she was actually able, and even kinder to refuse my payment to her.

As I said, life has been happening.

And I have come to a wonderfully profound (for me) conclusion: no matter the up or the down, each thing life throws at me makes me feel alive!

So, in case you don't hear from me for another long while, you can take heart knowing I am alive, and living my life to the fullest.

XO

Lisa

Shameless Self Promotion

Dear faithful family and friends,

Warning: Shameless self promotion to follow...

Well, in addition to fighting off cancer and recovering from five surgeries (shamelessness starting now), I also managed to write a book and create a website to promote my book (self promotion starting now).

Here's where I'd love your help...no it wasn't enough that you were there for me throughout this ordeal by sending prayers, cards, letters, gifts, meals, and more, ha! (shamelessness starting again) I would also love it if you could give this non technical gal a boost by going to my new website and 'Share It' with your friends and family as well as 'Like' me on Facebook and 'Follow Me' on Twitter!

Because my book will not launch until June 1, 2013, the information posted to the website, Facebook and Twitter will be fairly few and far between for now, but it will be all a flurry as it gets closer to my book release next summer.

I would greatly appreciate your support, as I have all along this journey, and I'm thrilled to have you along for the ride as I enter this exciting new chapter that cancer has opened up to me!

http://www.lisambakos.com

God bless and thank you!

XO

Lisa

Priceless

Mastectomy - $152,764.55
Anesthesiologist - $90,473.88
Chemotherapy - $54,635.99
Being Cancer Free - Priceless

Enjoying Every Minute

Last May, still in the thick of chemo, I had to make the appointment for my son's senior portrait. That appointment was today, here in the blink of an eye. It made me ever more aware of how time flies and before we know it, next May and his graduation from high school will be here.

I plan to be there in the front row, healthier in body, longer in hair, and happier in spirit.

I actually got tears in my eyes as I watched the photographer snap photo after photo. Here's a picture of my baby getting his portrait done. I'm grateful to God I'm still here to embarrass him. (note - blonde gal is photographer...in case you were wondering)

What the Bible says about prayer

~ by Dr. Charles Stanley

"Nearly everyone reaches a moment, when the only thing he or she can think to do is pray. Tragedy, uncertainty, unrest, fear, insecurity and trouble can bring even the most self-assured individuals to their knees.

Right now Americans are nervous about the upcoming presidential election, shell-shocked from a number of deadly mass shootings, concerned about the jobs and real estate markets and the hurricane season that has just begun. The days ahead are sure to be filled with many prayers for protection, prosperity, patience and peace.

Prayer is not a transfer of information, but rather an act of humility.

But why is it that the urge to pray only seems to come when the going gets tough? When life is going well and everything seems to be right on track, we think ourselves to be fully capable of handling it all. Many people only recognize their need for God when things begin to fall apart.

We turn to prayer because it is the most personal way to experience God, to encounter Him and to grow in knowledge of Him. According to the book of Ephesians, God’s desire is for us to pray “on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests” (Ephesians 6:18).

Still, people are most motivated to pray when they need something from God. But what does the Bible say is the reason God wants us to pray?

Jesus provides clear instructions when it comes to prayer. In what is perhaps His most well known public address, the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus shares with His followers what has become known as “The Lord’s Prayer.” His example models prayers of praise, submission to the will of God, reliance upon Him for daily sustenance and requests for forgiveness and deliverance. Jesus’ prayer focuses more on honoring God than listing needs to be met.

Interestingly, shortly after this instruction on how to pray, Jesus reminds his followers that "the Father knows what you need before you ask Him” (Matthew 6:8). This raises a fairly obvious question: if God already knows what we need, why bother asking?

The answer: Prayer is not a transfer of information, but rather an act of humility.

Prayer requires us to admit that perhaps we don’t quite know it all. In our culture, there is great pressure to have the answers, to convince everyone that we have it all together and to be completely self-sufficient.

According to Scripture, God is all knowing and completely wise which means He understands everything about a situation and sees the best path through it (Psalm 147:5). While our days are filled with expectations and demands, God is waiting for the moment when we say, ”I don’t know, but I know who does.”

Ultimately, Jesus demonstrates through His own life that prayer provides an avenue to the Father. Throughout the New Testament, we're told that Jesus "often withdrew to lonely places and prayed" (Luke 5:16). He was actively carving out time alone to meet with the Father in prayer.

In Luke 10:27, Jesus issues the command to “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.” But how can we love someone with whom we never speak? It is only through prayer that one can move from knowing about God to knowing God.

Perhaps you’ve never experienced a moment when, out of desperation, you bowed your head to pray. That’s ok. There is a first time for everything. But you don't need to wait until a crisis looms to begin a relationship with God through prayer.

If you have never really prayed, I urge you to give it a try. After all, the Bible tells us that your prayers will be met with God's delight (Proverbs 15:8, Psalm 149:4). The act of prayer leads to the peace, patience and perseverance we all so desperately need. With that in mind, what have you got to lose?"

Dr. Charles Stanley is the pastor of First Baptist Church Atlanta, founder of In Touch Ministries and best-selling author of many books. His latest is "The Ultimate Conversation: Talking with God through Prayer."

I Hope You're Happy

It's just about three weeks from my latest surgery and I'm starting to feel good again. Physically and emotionally, thank the Lord.

Today, I had a nice time out to lunch with my Aunt Sue. For those of you who may not know, my Aunt Sue (along with my wonderful mother and sisters) has been an integral part of my battle and journey with cancer, every step of the way from first fears, to diagnosis, to multiple surgeries, and finally to recovery. She has nutured, pampered, cooked, cleaned, laundered, organized and been a constant source of support.

She told me today that when she looks back over this past year of trials and tribulations, she feels sadness for me for what I went through. Understandable. She is like a mother to me and I can imagine feeling that way if this had been my daughter going through the same thing.

She then asked me what I thought about when I look back at the past year of my life. And you know, when I really stop to think about it, I feel happiness. Happiness for many reasons, but to name the biggest ones...happiness that my family and I are better people for what we have gone through, that our faith in God is stronger than ever, that I'm blessed with so many loving family members and friends, and happiness that I'm alive and able to sit down to lunch with my wonderfully loving and caring Aunt Sue on such a beautiful and sunny afternoon.

I hope that after reading this, you're happy too. :)

"The most authentic thing about us is our capacity to create, to overcome, to endure, to transform, to love and to be greater than our suffering." ~ Ben Okri

XO and God bless,

Lisa

You may have peace in me

"I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33 NLT)

Feel Free to Feel Free

After my brief Tamoxifen melt down last weekend, I felt oddly relieved. Then after thinking about it for a few days, I figured out why: it felt good to FEEL.

After I got over the initial feeling of shock I experienced from receiving a diagnosis of cancer, I felt largely emotionally numb for the better part of this past year. I had to stay numb in order to get through the horrible things I went through, both physically and emotionally. And I got really good at being numb.

Last Saturday, during my anger fest, it was the first time in a very long time I had let my emotions run free...and admittedly, it felt great.

I'm finally free to actually FEEL free, regardless of whether it's happiness, fear, depression, elation, sadness, anger, anxiety, or joy and it feels good. It makes me feel alive again!

I am grateful to be alive and have the ability to experience my God given range of emotions and feelings, without the numbness of worry or the mind blurring drugs of chemo!

“We think too much and feel too little.”
― Charles Chaplin

Tamoxifen Rage - it is a real thing!

I recently found myself searching the Internet pairing the two words 'Tamoxifen' and 'rage' together...why you ask? It will all make sense in a minute. Please read what I found as a result of the search below, written by a fellow warrior in the fight against breast cancer, Ann Silberman - (http://www.butdoctorihatepink.com)

Breast Cancer? But Doctor....I hate pink!: Tamoxifen - by Ann Silberman.

"Imagine, if you dare, a woman with PMS. But, this is no ordinary woman, and this is no ordinary PMS.

This is the mother of all PMS, and by that I mean you combine the PMS your mother had (you know, the kind that caused her to wake you from a sound sleep by hitting you with a hanger because you'd left your socks on the floor) with the PMS of a woman who is naturally upset at the state of her hair.

Which apparently refuses to grow in.

This combination doesn't make for your regular, garden variety PMS. This PMS is volcanic in its power. It is the Tsunami of PMS. If this PMS was electrical power, it could take the entire city of Sacramento off the national grid.

Let's pretend you take such a PMS and mix it with an annoyance, such as, say, a car running out of gas.

Add the fun fact that this car has a broken gas gauge so one can't tell when it's near empty. And that somebody's husband - who normally very kindly fills up the car each weekend to prevent the aforementioned running out of gas - forgot. Just this once. Let's envision that this car ran out of gas, causing the driver, who just might have had a right breast amputation and is in the middle of reconstruction and isn't allowed to (nor can) lift more than a couple of pounds, to have to turn a powerless SUV around a sharp corner to park it.

You mix this mother of PMS, add car problems, no hair, and a strained chest muscle with a tissue expander wrapped around it, and what do you get?

A Tamoxifen explosion.

Chemical lava flowed all over that long-suffering husband.

Now, maybe I know the person who had the above experience, and I'm sure if I did she'd want me to apologize for all the bad words the people around her might have heard as she stood in public on her cell phone and screamed about how a husband who really loved her wouldn't f'ing forget to fill the tank up, and how it was completely assholish to purposely leave his cancerous wife stranded miles from home.

Let me just say I think it's highly unfair that I (oh, okay, I admit it, it was me) went through eight years of perimenopause, with its intense one-day a month PMS symptoms, only to have it started up again chemically due to cancer. I was happy to have my ovaries killed by chemo. I was ready for my well-deserved old-lady rest, and I think I can speak for my husband in saying that he was ready too.

If I had to guess, I'd say he'd happily trade a little laxity in the skin to not have to be called names when he doesn't do me the courtesy of filling my gas tank.

My doctor warned me about the side effects of tamoxifen, an estrogen-blocking drug: cervical cancer, blood clots, hot flashes, headaches, weight gain - and mood swings.

What he didn't say was that these mood-swings would be on the level of a 7.2 earthquake.

Unfortunately, unlike real PMS, there will be no Aunt Flo to come and calm me down. This is a chronic, unyielding, continual condition.

I have to take tamoxifen for five years.

I could have PMS-type mood swings daily for five years!

That would be a real natural disaster for all involved.

But, it'd make a cool movie. It could star Ernest Borgnine and Roddy McDowall as men who have to navigate an upside down world - while Shelley Winters tries to kill them."

Ann Silberman is - "Blogging my life with breast cancer, from suspicion to diagnosis to treatment. Now livin' the Stage IV Lifestyle! Terminal Cancer can be funny. Just not for very long."


Unfortunately for Steve, he was the costar of a scene from my life on Tamoxifen today, and it wasn't pretty. Picture Ernest Borgnine, Roddy McDowall, Shelley Winters AND Glenn Close from Fatal Attraction, all together in the bathroom scene - THAT'S why I did the Internet search.

How am I to take this drug for at least five more years? By the end, my blog will be titled "Not Much Faith, No More Family, No More Friends".

Cancer, you suck.

10 Things I Learned from People Who Survive Cancer

By Lissa Rankin MD

When I interviewed women who had survived breast cancer for my art project The Woman Inside, I noticed that they all had one remarkable thing in common.

They had all faced down death and decided to live every day like it might be their last. And then they all beat cancer.

The more interviews I did, the more I noticed that these women were living differently than most of the people I knew who had not been diagnosed with cancer. Here’s what I learned from those survivor women. Learning these lessons changed my life, and I hope they’ll change yours.

1. Be unapologetically YOU. People who survive cancer get feisty. They walk around bald in shopping malls and roll their eyes if people look at them funny. They say what they think. They laugh often. They don’t make excuses. They wear purple muumuus when they want to.

2. Don’t take shit from people. People who survive cancer stop trying to please everybody. They give up caring what everybody else thinks. If you might die in a year anyway (and every single one of us could), who gives a flip if your great aunt Gertrude is going to cut you out of her will unless you kiss her ass?

3. Learn to say no. People with cancer say no when they don’t feel like going to the gala. They avoid gatherings when they’d prefer to be alone. They don’t let themselves get pressured into doing things they really don’t want to do.

4. Get angry. Then get over it. People who survive cancer get in your face. They question you. They feel their anger. They refuse to be doormats. They demand respect. They feel it. Then they forgive. They let go. They surrender. They don’t stay pissed. They release resentment.

5. Don’t obsess about beauty. People who survive cancer no longer worry about whether they have perfect hair, whether their makeup looks spotless, or whether their boobs are perky enough. They’re happy just to have boobs (if they still do). They’re happy to be alive in their skin, even if it’s wrinkled.

6. Do it now. Stop deferring happiness. People who survive cancer realize that you can’t wait until you kick the bucket to do what you’re dying to do. Quit that soul-sucking job now. Leave that deadbeat husband. Prioritize joy. They live like they mean it.

7. Say “I love you” often. People who survive cancer leave no words left unspoken. You never know when your time is up. Don’t risk having someone you love not know it.

8. Take care of your body. People who survive cancer have a whole new appreciation for health. Those who haven’t been there may take it for granted. So stop smoking. Eat healthy. Drink in moderation. Maintain a healthy weight. Avoid putting toxic poisons in your God pod. Get enough sleep.

9. Prioritize freedom. People who survive cancer know that being a workaholic isn’t the answer. Money can’t buy health. Security doesn’t matter if you’re six feet under. Sixteen hours a day of being a stress monster is only going to make you sick. As Tim Ferriss writes in “The 4-Hour Workweek,” “Gold is getting old. The New Rich are those who abandon the deferred-life plan and create luxury lifestyles in the present using the currency of the New Rich: time and mobility.”

10. Take risks. People who survive cancer have faced their fear and told it to go to hell. They know life is for living. Fear is powerless. And joy lies in taking risks. So go skydiving if you want. Bungee jump. Hang glide. Spend your savings. Live like you might die tomorrow.

Are you doing these things? Or are you waiting for cancer to test out how much you want to live?

Don’t wait for cancer, my love. Don’t tempt the universe that way.

Be brave enough to live now.

Photo Credit: .imelda

I Can Do All Things

Thank you for lifting me up in your prayers and for the notes and messages of love. I am, slowly but surely, beginning to feel better. I know I am better for having gone through this, and I am reminded so by the verse below:

"I know how to live on almost nothing or with everything. I have learned the secret of living in every situation, whether it is with a full stomach or empty, with plenty or little. For I can do everything through Christ, who gives me strength." (Philippians 4:12, 13 NLT)

Photo: Shamrocks born of bulbs my sister collected from my late grandmother's belongings:
"Hope springs eternal in the human breast;
Man never Is, but always To be blest:
The soul, uneasy and confin'd from home,
Rests and expatiates in a life to come."

Aphenphosmphobia

Oh the pain! Yes, I'm in terrible pain from this latest surgery, but it is more than that...it is a one year culmination of months and months of varying degrees of pain that I am feeling now.

Almost every time I have been touched by doctors, nurses, lab workers, etc., it has caused me pain, mostly pretty awful pain.

To put it simply, I have had an overexposure to excessive pokes, prods, pricks and surgeries, and to give you just a small example, it took the pre-op nurse 4 painful failed attempts with a big catheter needle before the anesthesiologist was successful at placing my IV prior to surgery.

Am I developing Aphenphosmphobia- a fear of being touched? No, not likely. But my increasing irritability at being touched is one odd and disconcerting side effect I was not counting on after going through all this stuff.

Even my cats have been banished from the bed...one rogue claw is about the last thing I can take. :(

Please pray for me.

Broken

It's the night before my next surgery on the road to reconstruction. Surgery will take about three hours and it will be my fifth one (counting my lumpectomies and mastectomy) with one more left to go in the process, about three months from now.

It is almost one year ago to the day that I found the lump that started all this. I'm so sick and tired of all the starts and stops, the pain and healing, and the regaining of strength only to lose it again.

The recovery time for this surgery is 4-6 weeks though I'm hoping I will be allowed to continue my daily walks...I've built up to about an hour a day and I'm really enjoying it!

Below is an excerpt from one of my favorite songs called Broken by Lifehouse. It has a lot of meaning for me, especially now.

Please keep me and my family in your prayers! Thank you.

"The Broken clock is a comfort
It helps me sleep tonight
Maybe it can stop tomorrow
From stealing all my time
And I am here still waiting
Though I still have my doubts
I am damaged at best
Like You've already figured out

I'm falling apart
I'm barely breathing
With a broken heart
That's still beating
In the pain
There is healing
In Your name
I find meaning
So I'm holding on (I'm holdin on)(I'm holdin on)
I'm barely holding on to You

I'm hanging on another day
Just to see what, You will throw my way
And I'm hanging on, to the words You say
You said that I will, will be okay
The broken light on the freeway
Left me here alone
I may have lost my way now
But I haven't forgotten my way home" (Broken) Lifehouse

http://www.slack-time.com/music-video-4325-Lifehouse-Broken

Happy Birthday to me!

I have the body of a 48 year old...and thanks to cancer and chemo, I have the mind of an 80 year old and the boobs of a 20 year old!!

Cancer vs. College Applications

As my 17 year old son begins his senior year of high school, he is also preparing to begin his college applications, complete with essays, letters of recommendations, etc. Not to mention come face to face with not so distant looming deadlines.

It can be overwhelming (seems so more for me, not him) especially as this is our first to embark on this path. I have had to remind myself frequently that I battled cancer and went through chemo, so what are a half dozen college applications going to do to me that cancer could not??

For me, it's all about keeping things in perspective. I'm more than ready to put this past year of cancer and its affects behind me and get back to focusing on my family and being a mother full time again. But I would like to think our experience with cancer gave them perspective as well and better prepared them all (particularly my oldest son), for a life of both joy and adversity, for life in college, and worst case, for life without me.

I intend to enjoy every moment of this next year as my son prepares to graduate high school in less than 9 months time and go off to college at just about this time next year. It may seem like a long ways off for most, but it was just about this time last year when I found my lump and began a journey that would change us all for the rest of our lives.

I intend to not let stress and the rigors of the coming year dictate our lives. I will speak with encouragement often, I will give my love always, and I will never forget the reason why I must do those things every day...aw, yes, perspective.

"Watch your thoughts, they become words. Watch your words, they become actions. Watch your actions, they become habits. Watch your habits, they become your character. Watch your character, it becomes your destiny." ~Author Unknown

You say Zometa...

I say Zo-NOT-a.

As expected and as warned by my oncologist, I got aches and flu like symptoms a little less than 24 hours after my Zometa infusion last Wednesday. What was not expected was three days of upwards of a fever of 102.9 with only brief and intermittent breaks. After my third night of a fever spike, I finally conceded it was time to go to the hospital.

Nothing like the joy of sitting in the ER waiting room late on a Saturday night near someone clutching a clear tupperware bowl and vomiting repeatedly - not to diminish her pain, but couldn't she have at least grabbed a solid bowl? If I hadn't been wearing a mask and pulling the strings on my sweatshirt hood so tight you could only see my nose, one would have seen the horror in my eyes as I moved away from her to the opposite end of the waiting room while Steve registered me.

I was admitted for having a FUKC (Fever of Un-Known Cause) see what I did there? ;) Once in a private room, I went through the usual diagnostics I've been through at least two other times before when I was admitted during my chemotherapy for FUKC's - blood draws (lots of it!), chest X-ray, urine, and IV fluids.

At around 3am the doctor told me there was a suspicious spot on my lung and while they weren't 100% certain, to be safe and cover all the bases, they would be treating me for pnuemonia. Odd, but that is one of the extremely rare side effects of Zometa.

By 4:30am, Steve and I were finally home and going to bed. I'm only up typing this now because my FUKC is back and I'm unable to sleep.

The good news is, after three days of staying in bed, a bed which is only 25 feet from my laundry room, I'm now down to my last load of dirty clothes and I can finally see my laundry room floor again. Why WAS I washing all those vacation clothes anyway - I don't remember going on vacation?

Zometa is Taxol's Evil Sister

11:29 AM Thursday, the morning after receiving the Zometa infusion.

After a full month of starting to feel better, the Zometa has knocked me back to the awful memory and pain of getting Taxol again. I'm reminded that at this moment, if I my cancer came back, I would not go through chemotherapy again.

I try to remember what it felt like in Hawaii, the ocean beside me, sipping iced tea...my memory betrays me and I can only think of pain and suffering because at the moment, I can only feel pain and suffering.

And still, my laundry taunts me, letting me know it waits for no one.

Curse you cancer!

Even my cats are worried.

Laundry and Dentists and Dead Rats, Oh My!

Vacations have a way of ending too soon for me, but after 10 days in Hawaii, I found myself rested and ready to take on my next surgery in 3 weeks...until we arrived home and experienced the following events in orderly succession:

First, after a long day of travel and apparently 90 degree heat in California, we came home to the smell of a morgue without refrigeration...a rat had chewed through the vent in our crawl space, found its way onto an old trap, and expired - approximately 5 days ago! (Note: By the days end, Mr. Rat will be removed and given a proper burial in the garbage can).

Next, I unpacked and piled high about 5 loads of dirty laundry...for a moment I wondered what smelled worse - the dead rat or the laundry!

After that, I had my pre-op appointment followed by a visit to my oncologist for my Lupron shot and Zometa infusion - flu like symptoms to follow shortly!

Upon leaving the oncologist, I gathered up my toothless young son and went to the dentist to have his fractured permanent teeth repaired, albeit quite likely only temporarily.

Last, but not least, I visited my friend in the hospital - she underwent a double mastectomy yesterday, and I am reminded of how much I despise cancer and its evil ways. I'm pleased to find my friend resting comfortably for now.

Yes, it was a long and tiring day, and as I lay down to rest, my laundry pile is taunting me, seemingly multiplying before my eyes.

And I thank God for the blessing of a somewhat normal, somewhat abnormal, but mostly busy day....

Embracing Baldness

Back on the mainland, as the Kama'aina call it, I never had the confidence to go out without my scarves or hats and bare my bald head. I guess, in large part, because cancer and the baldness that can result from treatment can invoke a rather uncomfortable feeling for many people. I'm guessing it's because they're just not sure what to say or how to react around someone who's sick with this disease.

I'm wondering, too, if I have kept the scarves on as a security blanket for me.

In Hawaii, however, it's rather difficult to swim in the ocean, pool, or go down the water slide (yes I said water slide - 2 man tube with Josef!) with a scarf or hat on my head. So, I went bald. My kids didn't care, and frankly that's all I really cared about.

There are many people, especially teenage girls, who give me a few prolonged stares. I guess they're trying to figure out whether or not I have cancer, alopecia, or just plain baldness.

I'm having to follow the advice I have given countless times to my children: Who cares what other people think? Truth is, I really don't care, otherwise, I probably wouldn't even don a bathing suit!

I must admit, it feels amazing to have the trade winds tousling my baby fine stubble and have the ocean spray splash on my head. It is a very free feeling, one I plan to remember for the rest of my life.

To quote a fellow warrior in the fight against breast cancer:

"Remember, we are so much more than our appearance, and our value goes so far beyond what people see on the outside every day. So celebrate that inner bald chick! We all have one.". Laura Berman, PhD

A reminder that I am a mother with normal motherly worries...

As I relaxed in my cabana, three days into our ten day vacation, gazing at the ocean and trying to decide between a burger and fries for lunch or a healthier salad option, my serenity was abruptly interrupted by Josef running up to me with his hands clenched over his mouth. I was horrified to see his two front permanent teeth were fractured off and gone. Josef had hit his face on the bottom of the pool slide when another boy landed on top of him.

The next several frenzied hours involved us finding and going to a pediatric dentist in Honolulu, 45 minutes from our hotel.

The dentist put a temporary protective coating on his broken teeth so he could eat and drink and enjoy the rest of our vacation, until we can have his teeth repaired properly back home. Josef was a real trooper.

The dentist was a kind man who took great care of Josef and who recognized in me the signs of someone with cancer, as his wife is a survivor now of 12 years. After he made the temporary repair, he said he was glad I had this reminder today that I still have 'normal' mom worries. He was right...today I was a normal mom and though life is full of unexpected and unwanted events, I'm glad I'm here to experience them.

Tomorrow though, I'm back to relaxing in the shade...this time with a cocktail. ;)

Celebrating the end of Chemo

It's been almost 6 weeks since my last chemo. I've since started the Lupron shots and the Tamoxifen. So far, other than expected bone pain and frequent hot flashes, it's been going pretty well.

To celebrate the end of my chemo, we took our kids and my parents to Disney's Aulani resort, where we can relax, have some fun, and forget about cancer for awhile.

As we were enjoying the sun, Minnie, Mickey, Goofy and friends came out by the pool, dancing to Hawaiian music...it made me happy when my 17 year old was still eager to pose for a picture with me and Minnie. After all the months of pain, illness, and sometimes sadness, it sure feels good to have my happy, smiling family around me, on a beach with a couple of mice and all their friends.

Aloha

Lisa

I'm sprouting hair!

Pepper Kisses

One of my fondest memories was of my grandpa's infamous pepper kisses. Upon returning from work each day with a coveted gift of a bag of pretzels, my grandpa would clutch us closely and rub his unshaven cheek to ours...pepper kisses! We dreaded them, but we loved them too!

I never thought I'd be able to pass those pepper kisses on to my children...gratefully so, since I lacked facial hair (for now!). But since being bald and retaining some prickly stubble, I can happily report that my children and husband have now, too, been the reluctant recipients of many pepper kisses. Josef, for one, actually asks for them, only to giggle madly as he pretends to fight me off.

Since completing chemo, my pepper kiss prickle is giving way to duckling kiss fuzz and I find myself grateful for this moment in time that I'm quite certain my grandpa in Heaven had so much to do with....

No Proof Necessary...

"For those who believe, no proof is necessary. For those who don't believe, no proof is possible." Stuart Chase

I truly believe in guardian angels and I believe they can take all forms - a dragonfly hovering nearby, a bumblebee feigning interest in a flower, a butterfly flitting just above, a hummingbird humming about, and even a clumsy mosquito hawk bumbling around my porch light!

Every time I see a winged creature that seems to linger near me, I believe it is a guardian angel checking in!

Be nice to winged creatures..."for some thereby have entertained angels unawares." Heb 13:2

Warning: Cooking May Cause Cancer

Well, for the first time in over 6 months, I shopped for groceries and cooked dinner for my family.

As I was cooking, I was reminded why and how much I hate cooking. I tried to tell Steve that cooking caused my cancer. He didn't buy it.

Wonder if he'll believe that laundry and house cleaning cause cancer too!

Turns out the only thing I'm good at making is reservations!

Waiter, there's a hair in my soup!

And it definitely ain't mine!

Will I Live to see 80?

Here's something to think about.

I recently picked a new primary care doctor. After two visits and exhaustive Lab tests, he said I was doing ‘fairly well’ for my age. (I will soon turn Forty-Eight).

A little concerned about that comment, I couldn't resist asking him, 'Do you think I'll live to be 80?'

He asked, 'Do you smoke tobacco, or drink beer, wine or hard liquor?'

'Oh no,' I replied. 'I'm not doing drugs, either!'

Then he asked, 'Do you eat rib-eye steaks and barbecued ribs?'

'I said, 'Not much... my former doctor said that all red meat is very unhealthy!'

'Do you spend a lot of time in the sun, like playing golf, tennis, boating, sailing, hiking, or bicycling?'

'No, I don't,' I said.

He asked, 'Do you gamble, drive fast cars, or have a lot of sex?'

'No,' I said...

He looked at me and said,..
'Then, why do you even give a crap?'

Ha ha!

My Strength is Made Perfect in Weakness..

"And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me." 2Corinthians 12:9 KJV

It's Not Over When it's Over

This article really sums up everything I'm feeling...

It's Not Over: Life After Breast Cancer
By Christine Haran

It's often assumed that coping with the shock of a breast cancer diagnosis is the most difficult part of living with breast cancer, but women who have had breast cancer know that life is often hardest after treatment ends.

While women and their friends and family are eager for life to return to normal, many women struggle to move from the crisis mode they entered to get though treatment back to everyday activity.

Women who have had breast cancer often say that they are physically and spiritually transformed by having faced a life-threatening illness. These changes can permeate all facets of life and both strain and strengthen relationships.

Hester Hill Schnipper, a breast cancer survivor and chief of oncology social work at Beth Israel Deaconess in Boston, is the author of After Breast Cancer: A Common-Sense Guide to Life After Breast Cancer, which was published by Bantam in October 2003. Below, Schnipper explains how women and their loved ones can learn to cope with the complexities of life after breast cancer.

Why is finishing treatment sometimes more frightening than actually undergoing treatment?

There is a huge relief associated with being completed with the treatment, but it's also frightening for lots of reasons.

The most important one is probably the feeling that, "Uh-oh, now I'm not doing anything active to fight the cancer, and what if there are cells left in my body lurking somewhere that now will be free to flourish and grow."

It's also frightening because while going through treatment, women become accustomed to frequently seeing their doctors or nurses or other caregivers. Particularly during radiation, which is a daily occurrence, the techs that administer the radiation can feel like your closest buddies for a month or six weeks. To all of a sudden be cut off from people who have been so reassuring by being told by your doctor, "Okay, you're done, see you in six months," feels as though you've kind of been pushed out the door precipitously.

The last thing is that because chemotherapy particularly can be so physically arduous, many women have used all of their emotional and physical energy just to get through it day-by-day. When the crisis is over, and you have a chance to sit down, you think, "Oh, my God, what did I just get through?"

How does it affect families and friends?

Most people's family and friends are hugely relieved that it's over and are more than ready to have life get back to normal, though it might be embarrassing for them to admit it. By the time the months of treatment are over, they've really had it, even if they've been wonderfully loving and supportive and helpful all along.

Also, many friends and family members think that when the treatment is over, breast cancer is over. Lots of people really are unaware that there's never a way for a woman to be promised that the cancer will never come back, that she is still very much living with all the same kinds of uncertainty and fear that she's been living with since the moment of diagnosis.

Do you have advice about improving communication about this?

Probably the best advice is to try to be as honest and open as you can about what you're feeling. Women often need to be really specific with their families and friends about what they need. That gets tricky because what we need changes daily. Sometimes our families and our friends really can't win, because on the one hand, we get very tired of being asked in the very sympathetic voice, "Oh, how are you?" when we want to be treated as though we're normal. And then five minutes later, we want somebody to remember what we've been through, and that we may still really be struggling with this.

What shouldn't people say to someone who has just finished treatment?

Probably one of the ones I hear the most often from women is: "How do they know it worked?" Or, "Are you cured now?" Or, "How are they going to check and make sure the cancer's really gone?" Of course, the answer to all those questions is there's no way to know for sure, and questions like that generally just make the woman feel scared all over again.

How can women cope with the longer-term physical effects of treatment?

The rule of thumb is that it takes approximately as long as the total duration of treatment to feel really well again. So it generally takes months for somebody to really feel as sturdy and well as she was feeling before her breast cancer diagnosis.

Beyond hair growing in and the return of energy after chemotherapy, there are some physical changes and side effects that persist for a long time. The most obvious one is probably if there are physical changes caused by surgery. If a woman has had a mastectomy or reconstruction, or even with lesser breast surgery, breasts usually look different than they did before and they certainly feel different after radiation. Getting used to what your new body is like takes a while.

Are there any special considerations for women with young children?

For most mothers, one of the most, if not the most, upsetting thing(s) about breast cancer is worrying about dying and leaving children before they're grown. Of course, moms of young adult children are also very much needed by their kids.

Through treatment, particularly if a mother has been really sick, she may have not been able to be the fully active participatory mom that she usually is. She probably hasn't been able to drive the same carpools or get to all the games or just not been able to be there in the same ways. That just has to be rebuilt gradually as energy and strength come back.

What about the kids?

Mothers also need to give their children chances to talk about cancer. What we find is that most kids behave as though nothing happened because most mothers have made an heroic effort to have their kids' lives go on as normally as possible. And that's the best thing we can do for our kids. But you can be sure that your children did notice. They may, at some point, want to talk about it, and they may not.

My best advice to women is to occasionally bring it up in conversation. Perhaps say at the dinner table, "I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow and I'm feeling fine, but I'll be glad when we're sitting here at dinner tomorrow night, and I can tell you all that everything went well at the doctor just as I think it's going to." Just make occasional comments to suggest that the cancer experience is an acceptable topic and that any time the child wants to say something about it, he or she can feel free to do that—that it's not taboo.

How can breast cancer be spiritually transforming?

I certainly experienced it myself, and I hear it from women all the time, that just the way they aren't any atheists in a foxhole, there aren't too many women who've been diagnosed with a life-threatening illness who don't begin to really grapple with the big existential questions in life. For lots of women, that means beginning to think about whether they believe in God or some kind of guiding spirit.

Lots of women find that they return to a church or a temple that they maybe attended in their childhood. Other people may go church or temple shopping and try to find a place that feels comfortable now. Plenty of people never feel the need to join any kind of organized and formal religion, but do feel a need to get their own sort of souls in order as they think about "How do I find meaning?"

How do women learn to live with the fear of recurrence?

For most of us, that is the very hardest part of breast cancer. We can never be promised that we can stop worrying. We know that something like 60 percent of all recurrences happen in the first three years, so after three years, I tell women they can let out half a sigh of relief. Then with every passing year that you stay well, the odds increase that you're going to stay well. So things look brighter after six years than they did after four years. But the truth is that breast cancer can recur years later, so we're never completely out from under the cloud.

It really helps most women to talk about it. Even though the instinct might be to not express the fear, bottling it up probably makes it worse. To find a person or a couple people or a support group where a woman can talk about what she's afraid of is helpful.

In the early weeks, months, even years after finishing treatment it is so hard to build a life that is the way you want it.

I want to reassure women that no matter how sad, scared, terrified or crazy you feel in the first weeks and months after finishing breast cancer treatment, it really does get better as time goes on. There are lots of us living out there and living very well and very happily.

Do Everything With Love

"Watch, stand fast in the faith, be brave, be strong. Let all that you do be done with love.". 1 Corinthians 16:13, 14

How easy it is to tell someone you love them, yet sometimes it seems hard to do. Let your tone soften whenever you speak, add 'please' and 'thank you' and 'I'm sorry' wherever needed, and say 'I love you' as much as you possibly can!

Fuzzy Wuzzy...

...had no hair...until now!

Three weeks after my last chemo, if you look in just the right light, you can see tiny hairs, almost like duckling fuzz, growing on my head!!

It is a subtle sign that life is moving forward in a positive direction!

And speaking of moving forward, I received the first of many quarterly Lupron shots last week. The Lupron will keep me in a post-menopausal state, which will keep me from producing estrogen - one of the hormones that fueled my tumor. Next week, I begin the Tamoxifen, and a few weeks later I begin three years of bi-annual bone strengthening infusions of Zometa, the latest medical advancement to try to prevent the cancer from returning.

I've been told by my Dr. that the milestone for becoming a survivor is now 10 years rather than 5. I'd be lying if I didn't admit I feel worry every day that sometime in the next few years, I will have an ache somewhere, or a persistent headache, only to discover the cancer has returned. This is not an attitude of negativity, and it is not just a matter of 'thinking positive' - it is simply a factual way of thinking that takes place once you've had cancer, chemo, surgeries, and lots of drug therapy. Cancer will always be on my mind and will always be a part of my life.

The ONLY positive to come from all of this is that I hope to continue to live my life in constant appreciation for my faith, family, friends, and good health.

This past weekend was my first real outing since my mastectomy in January...Steve and I traveled to St. Helena to attend the wedding of the daughter of dear family friends. It allowed Steve and I to reminisce about our own wedding, as the reception was in the same wine cellar where we celebrated our marriage 21 years ago this coming October. I was then, and I still am today, the luckiest girl in the world!